


drunk on alcohol, nostalgia, and you

by aelagabalus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Chill Fic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mostly Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelagabalus/pseuds/aelagabalus
Summary: “I guess I miss you,” Harry said. If he was sober, he’d be surprised to hear the sincerity in his voice.“What? Potter, what in Salazar’s name are you on about? I swear I’ll hang up the phone right now, you big waste of—” Draco said, taken aback at first, then growing irritated as he went on. He was cut off by Harry’s quiet laughter.or the one where harry was drunk and drunk-dials draco in the middle of the night, accidentally pouring his whole heart out to draco who is surprisingly willing to take it all in.





	drunk on alcohol, nostalgia, and you

**Author's Note:**

> drink every time one of them laughs, giggles, snorts, or chuckles. pardon them, they're two boys in love.  
> i wrote this in about three days in the middle of the night after a sudden burst of creativity, so i apologize if there are any errors. also, this is my first time writing drarry. feel free to leave some feedback!  
> enjoy.

Harry had been in quite a rut these past few weeks. His job as an Auror, though amazing and fulfilling, was tiring and fucking draining him to his bones. Home wasn’t as good—he lived alone in his lonely apartment. 12 Grimmauld Place had long been transferred to the possession of the Granger-Weasley family (Harry wasn’t that attached to it anyway so he was fine to give it up). His friends were moving on with their lives, and he felt left out.

So he drank. It hadn’t become a habit, fortunately—turns out he did have some bit of self-control in him. But that didn’t mean it’s not a _lot_ of drinking.

He slumped into his bed as his head spun, little snitches circling over his head. He looked at the clock and saw 1:30 AM in bright red lights. He sighed and laid on his back, his arm over his eyes, as he let himself think.

Midnight really was the hour of the lonely. _Fuck_ , Harry thought as he opened his phone, his vision blurry as he looked through his contact list. His thumb swiped as he briefly drifted off, his eyes becoming heavier as he tapped a name and it started ringing. He snapped back awake. He didn't bother to look at who he’s calling and put the call on speaker.

“Hello?”

Harry sighed at the familiar voice. It’s raspier than usual. He must've woken the person on the other line up.

“Hi,” Harry said, smiling dopily (drunkenly) and trying not to slur.

“Potter? Why the fuck are you calling in—” The voice paused to probably look at the clock. “—Merlin knows what ungodly hour?”

Harry tried not to think about how they instantly recognized his voice (the alcohol made it easy).

“Malfoy, don’t you want a chat with an old pal?” He said, giggling.

“I don’t think we’re at that stage yet. Anyway, we chat around at work, you idiot.” Draco paused. “Never mind that—are you drunk?”

“Maybe—do you care?” Harry said in a low, almost self-pitiful voice.

Draco paused because of the way Harry spoke. “What does that suppose to mean?”

“Nothing.”

There was a moment of silence between the two.

Harry’s mind was spinning, the alcohol and Draco’s voice affecting his thinking, then before he could stop himself, he broke the silence.

“I guess I miss you,” Harry said. If he was sober, he’d be surprised to hear the sincerity in his voice.

“What? Potter, what in Salazar’s name are you on about? I swear I’ll hang up the phone right now, you big waste of—” Draco said, taken aback at first, then growing irritated as he went on. He was cut off by Harry’s quiet laughter.

“That, I miss that. I don’t know why, but your insults and snide remarks always felt familiar to me and I guess I’ve grown fond of it. Makes me think of—” Harry paused to find the right word, “ _home_.”

“You miss me insulting you?” Draco laughed. “Then you should come by my office more often, Potter, I’ll gladly spare time to do just that.”

“I might just take you up on that offer,” Harry said, laughing as well.

“Are you serious?” Draco laughed but a tiny speck of hope formed in his chest.

“Yeah,” Harry said too sincerely and Draco stopped laughing. “I wasn’t joking when I said you make me feel like I’m home. I’m sitting in my bed and when I first got here, it felt like just another place to sit on, but now I’m talking to you.”

“How much did you drink? You’ve obviously had too much for your own good,” Draco said, growing more concerned but couldn't help himself blushing over what Harry had said.

“Not sure, but I can take it. I’m a big boy now.” Harry laughed and Draco joined him for a second. Harry gasped, rather cartoonishly, as if he just realized something. “I know why you feel like home. It’s because of Hogwarts, obviously.” Harry thumped his own forehead as punishment for not realizing it sooner. “Sorry, I’m drunk, my brain won’t function properly.”

“I doubt it would even if you were sober.”

Harry giggled. “Hogwarts—it was my home, and even if you were my so-called arch nemesis, you were part of my home. I’ve become used to you always there and being an annoying little brat. So you have become kind of like my home, too. Does that make sense?”

“I refuse to answer, just because you’ve called me an annoying little brat. Not far from the truth, but I won’t take it from you.”

“Can you believe it? My supposed enemy is now who I think is my only source of home. How fucking ironic,” Harry laughed for a second then stopped. “But then again, I never hated you, not really.”

“I doubt that, Potter. I’m pretty sure we hated each other to bits when we were younger.”

Harry smiled at the fact that Draco had also used the past tense on the word _hate_ , signifying that he didn’t hate him anymore. Or that maybe he also never actually did.

“No, I never did. I was extremely annoyed at you, yes. But never hate, I don’t think I could if it was you. Even when you were a Death Eater.” Draco winced. “I didn’t hate you then. I was disappointed because I hoped that you would see that you were in the wrong side and you’d come to our side but it never happened.”

“I’m sorry to have upset the mighty Savior of the Wizarding World, then,” Draco joked. There was an unspoken mutual understanding between the two that the past was now _just_ the past and something they could laugh at together.

“You should be, I don’t like being upset,” Harry laughed.

“Then I probably shouldn't tell you that I'm sleepy and would very much love to go back to sleep right now, then?” Draco was half-lying.

“No, I'm still lonely,” Harry said with a pout.

Draco rolled his eyes. “And we wouldn't want that, do we?”

Harry giggled then there was a beat of silence.

“I'm sorry, by the way. About how our childhood ended up to be a whole mess because we didn't try to get along. About how I just didn't take your hand that first time,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“Why are _you_ sorry? I've been the asshole all this time. Ever since you gave me that second chance, I try to make it up to you,” Draco said softly.

Harry's stomach did a flip of some kind but it's not the kind where he felt like vomiting.

“Do you think our lives could've gone differently if I took your hand that day?”

Draco genuinely thought about what could have been, but stopped himself before he could go any further. It just made him think about what the two of them have missed just for not trying to get along and it made him so _fucking_ sad.

“I'm not so sure, Harry. I doubt that your massive Gryffindor ego would let you be one of my minions,” Draco joked instead in a fake snobby tone.

“How hypocritical of you to say, Draco,” Harry mimicked his tone. “From what I remember, you had an even bigger Slytherin ego.”

“Sounds about right,” Draco said and was delighted when Harry laughed at his intentional innuendo.

“God, I do miss you,” Harry said. “D'you know that Hermione, Ron, and probably all of my friends are convinced that I was obsessed with you when we were still in Hogwarts?”

Obsessed wasn't exactly the word they used. _In love_ was more accurate, but Draco really did not need to know that right now.

“I mean, who could blame you?”

Harry scoffed but continued, “I don't know why I'm telling you this but whatever, I'm drunk and I've most likely already said too much. Anyway, I used to always follow you around and see what you're up to—look at what the sly ferret's up to as Ron would say.” Harry paused as he thought back to all that 'stalking' he's done. He groaned in embarrassment. “Fuck, I'm so sorry about that. That's so embarrassing, ugh.”

Draco laughed, “That is straight up stalking, Potter! You were stalking me!”

“I know!” Harry said, horrified. “God, I'm so sorry. What the hell was I thinking? You probably think I'm a creep now.”

“Okay, one, I've always thought you were a creep.” Harry snorted. “Two, again, who could blame you? I'm very interesting.”

“Why aren't you mad at me?” Harry groaned. “That's such a weird thing to do!”

“Well,” Draco paused, feeling his cheeks warm up—not unlike Harry's state that is no longer 100% the alcohol's fault. “I kind of did that, too.”

“What?” Harry almost yelled.

“Stop being so loud!” Draco whisper-yelled in a giggle. “Yes, okay? I did that, too. But unlike your dumb, drunken self, I will not enumerate what I had done to save myself some dignity.”

“Alright, that makes me feel better, then. Thank you very much for sharing that to me,” Harry grinned goofily.

“Yuck, that was not intended to make you feel better,” Draco said in mock-disgust. (Half-lying, again.)

“It still did—no takebacks!”

Draco snorted, “How childish of you, Potter.”

Harry laughed and reveled in the moment. He felt that this was how it could have been if only he took Draco's hand from the beginning and were friends with him. He thought that they would have got on pretty well. Their banter would have gone on and on as Draco's quick wit matches up perfectly with Harry's. Now that Harry's thinking about it, they actually got a lot in common. They were just in completely different sides of the coin.

“Potter?” Draco's voice pulled Harry back to reality.

“Do you know why I called you?”

“No, actually.” Draco pulled his phone away from his ear to look at the minutes of the call and pulled it back in. “It's been about 20 minutes into this phone call and I've still got no idea. I'm starting to think that you're just back to ruining my life, really.”

“No, don't say that,” Harry pouted.

“Harry, I can hear your pout from here. Now, why did you call me?”

“Well, I didn't actually call you. I was mostly half-asleep when I was scrolling through my contact list and I guess my hand just picked you and now here we are.” 

Draco hummed and Harry might have melted a bit. 

“But, anyway, I was going to call someone because I'm fucking lonely and sad and _alone_ ,” Harry said.

“I'm sorry about that,” Draco said sincerely.

“It's not your fault, and you are helping—believe it or not. I'm glad that it was you that I end up calling, because I know for a fact that I could talk to you for a while.” _For a very long while_ , Harry thought.

“Why would you think that?”

“I've always thought you were a good person. You were just struggling because of the people you were surrounded with. I'm happy that it's not a problem for you, anymore.”

“God, you're so sappy. I don't handle feelings very well, Potter,” Draco said as he felt his heart grow warmer and bigger.

As if he needed more space in it just for Harry Potter (really, there's not enough space in his whole body).

“Me too. Get drunk, you'll be able to handle anything.” 

Draco laughed genuinely, “I'm sure.”

Draco's laugh sent shivers down Harry's spine and made his stomach do a backflip. He felt like his chest could burst. He could hear his brain making it his top priority to make Draco laugh more. Fuck, he's getting sober.

“Shit, I'm getting sober.”

“Oh, good, that's some progress right there. Have you drunk water, then?” Draco said. 

“No, of course not.”

“Of course.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Go get some then, you git.”

“Later. Don't want to get up yet.”

Draco had the overwhelming urge to take care of Harry right now—and he needed to go to sleep.

“Harry James Potter, get a bloody glass of water right now.”

Harry giggled, “You sound like Molly.”

“I'll take that as a compliment. She is the only Weasley I accept—Are you getting the glass of water?”

“You really do have a knack for bossing people around, huh?” Harry heard Draco starting to speak again but he cut him off, “Yes, yes! I'm standing up and getting the water, Dad.” Harry giggled again and tried his best to walk into his kitchen successfully without bumping into anything. He bumped into the sofa twice.

“Good,” Draco said and smiled fondly. He didn't know when he started openly showing fondness to the other boy but he didn't want to know. After all, he won't be able to see it. 

He heard fumbling from the other end. “You okay there, Potter?”

“Uh,” Harry paused. “Mostly, yeah. I'm in the kitchen and I've got my water. My head is going to burst, though,” he winced.

“Well, that's what you get when you drink too much. Honestly, Potter,” he clicked his tongue in mock-disappointment. 

“Alright, alright. I don't need to hear your disapproval. I've already got enough of that in my own head.” Harry stopped to think. “And it's not just from the alcohol.” He cringed. “I just told you that I missed you twice.”

Draco snorted, “That's fine, Potter. It's not like you've got much dignity left.”

“Oh, shut up, Malfoy,” Harry said but laughed still. His cheeks still pink from remembering what he had told Draco. “It's not like you tried to give back some of my dignity by saying it back.” Harry stopped when he realized what he just said. He winced quietly but waited for what Draco would say. 

Draco was frozen in his bed. He felt like he's been Stupefied. A long moment of silence passed by before Draco decided his next course of action. He shook his head.

“Okay, you obviously had too much,” Draco said and bit his lip.

“Oh,” Harry said, failing to cover up the disappointment in his voice. 

Draco sighed, “I'm guessing you'd need some help cleaning up.” He bit his lip, and took a moment to compose himself before finally saying, “Would you like me to come over?” 

Harry grinned and replied maybe a little bit too quickly, “I would like that very much.”

“Be there in a bit,” Draco said and he hanged up the phone.

He moved fast, standing up from the bed too quickly, he got a bit of whiplash. He took his wand and phone. He passed by the mirror. He stopped to try and fix his hair. He's still wearing his gray plaid pajamas, and he contemplated for a split second if he should change but then remembered that Harry was drunk and sleepy and probably did not care at all. Draco Apparated, and with a loud crackle, he's in Harry's kitchen.

“Hey,” Harry said a little breathless. He's standing and leaning by the kitchen counter. He was still wearing his day clothes—a pair of black skinnies, and a gray collared shirt inside a mustard yellow sweater.

Draco tried to hide his smile and switched his attention to the—probably week-old—dishes in the sink. He ignored the fact that yellow made Harry look charming as he tried very hard to focused in his task.

“How are you feeling?” Draco asked, taking the glass of water that was by Harry's side.

“Fine, thanks to your nagging,” Harry said lightly, still a bit breathless.

“Glad I could help.” 

“Why are you even washing the dishes?” Harry asked as he sat up on the counter, looking over at Draco.

Draco, instead of saying that he just wanted something to do that would not include looking at Harry's face and, Merlin forbid, into his eyes, just said “Didn't want to cause any culture shock; know that this is what you grew up with.” Draco stopped though and let magic do the rest of the dish-washing. He sighed before turning towards Harry.

Harry laughed and reached over to Draco to pinch his pajamas with his toes. “You twat,” he muttered. 

“Oy! Get your filthy toes of my nice pajamas, would you?” Draco said and slapped Harry's leg away from him.

“I'm not filthy!”

“In those day clothes? Yes, you are.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and huffed like a child. Draco laughed at him.

“Well, c'mon then!” Draco said, tugging Harry softly so he would step down the counter. “Let's get you to bed, sweetheart,” he continued in the most saccharine voice he could manage.

Harry jumped off the counter and almost lost his balance as his feet landed on the floor. Draco caught him though, and he tried to hide his more-dopey-than-drunken smile as he let himself be taken into his own bedroom. 

Harry flopped onto bed as Draco went over his dresser to get him some clothes to change into.

“Merlin, Potter! The state of this dresser is ghastly,” Draco said as he rummaged through piles of folded and unfolded clothes. “Are any of these even clean?”

“Yes!” Harry groaned into his soft pillow. 

Soon, Draco had finally found some decent enough clothes which was an old gray Quidditch shirt and a pair of red plaid pajamas. He tossed them over to Harry and the other boy only groaned.

“C'mon, you lazy ass! The sooner you get dressed, the sooner you could sleep,” Draco said and sat himself on the seat in the corner. He looked at the picture frame there as he waited for Harry to finish. Harry fortunately obliged then.

Draco studied the picture. It's a collage of Harry's parents, the Golden Trio on what seems like a trip to Hogsmeade, and a picture of the complete Order of the Phoenix. They were all moving pictures and all of them were smiling. Draco couldn't help but smile as well despite the pang of guilt at the memories of some of them.

“Nice pictures, no?” Harry said as he got back out of the bathroom, having already brushed his teeth and washed his face guessing by the wet spot in the middle of his shirt.

“Yeah, you all look happy,” Draco said and put the frame back on the side table. He got up and walked over to Harry just as he was tucking himself into his bed. “Let me get you some Hangover Potion.” He started to walk away but Harry caught his wrist.

“I only have aspirin. It'll work just as well,” Harry said and slumped his head back to his pillow. “It's in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom.”

Draco nodded and set off to get some aspirin and a glass of water. He came back to an almost asleep Harry with his glasses askew over his nose. He giggled to himself and set the glass and pill on the side table. He sat on the bed by Harry's side and slapped him softly on the cheek. He laughed when Harry startled awake and took a few seconds to look into his eyes.

There's another beat of silence.

“I could wake up with this every morning for the rest of my life,” Harry said unexpectedly. He was laying in bed as Draco watched over him, sitting by his side and looking at him so fondly. He couldn't believe that it's true. He didn't realize he had said that out loud and stunned Draco in place once again. “Did I say that out loud?”

Draco flushed into a bright crimson red. The color so stark on his pale skin that Harry noticed. The boy grinned and adopted a red hue on his cheeks as well. 

“Would you please just drink this pill?” Draco said quietly and handed him the glass and pill.

Harry slid into a sitting position as he took the items gratefully and did what he's told. He set the glass back on the table and looked back at Draco.

“It's a miracle that you haven't vomited yet with how much you sound like you've drunk,” Draco said just so there wouldn't be any deafening silence—just the sound of his heavy beating heart.

“Would you please stay with me tonight?” Harry said suddenly, hope shamelessly evident in his bright green eyes as he looked into Draco's own wide gray eyes.

“Yes,” was only what Draco could manage. He surprised himself despite knowing full well that it was exactly how he pictured this whole charade he and Harry were playing to end up.

Harry almost squealed in happiness but settled to just kissing Draco's cheek softly and saying “Thank you.” He shifted onto the other side of the bed and lifted his duvet so Draco could crawl next to him. 

Without hesitation, Draco laid next to Harry and the two fit themselves into each other's arms as if they've done this a thousand times before. It's familiar yet new all at the same time. They just fit into each other so well that it wasn't a surprise that they would end up in this situation sooner or later.

From there on, they knew that right there was where they belong. In each other's arms, limbs tangled together—steady and balanced. They had a sense that this was what was meant for them all this time. Now here they are. They are _sure_ , completely and utterly sure. 

It shouldn't have been so easy after everything they've been through. But it was. It was so easy because it was the only possible end to their relationship. It was what they deserved. They were once enemies, but not quite. Then after years of dormant energy, they became somewhat friends. Now, they're sure that they're more than that. 

The next morning, Harry woke up with the sun in his eyes. Sunlight seeped through his white curtains, and warmth seemed to be coming from everywhere. He opened his eyes and saw a view he would very much love to see every day for the rest of his life. All his past worries, gone.

Draco was sleeping soundly, his arms around Harry. His face still as pristine and angled, but softer and _cute_. Harry never thought he'd associate the word cute to Draco, yet it's applicable. Although, gorgeous was more appropriate. 

“Harry, stop staring at me,” Draco groaned sleepily and buried his face into Harry's neck. 

Harry blushed and kissed the top of Draco's head. “Good morning, Draco.”

Draco blushed as well and kissed Harry's neck. He sighed contentedly, “G'morning.”

Harry was grinning so wide; his cheeks should hurt. “D'you want to get up?”

“Not yet,” Draco said, tightening his arms around Harry and throwing his legs over him.

“Alright,” Harry said and put his hand on Draco's arm that was draped over his chest. His thumb drew lazy circles on Draco's porcelain skin as they laid there. 

A few moments later, Draco hummed and finally looked up at Harry. He smiled at him, memorizing his face—every detail of every square inch of Harry's handsome face—and saving it for later. Harry smiled at him, too. They both have something in their eyes that the other could read and it's all they needed.

“Breakfast?” Draco asked. 

Harry nodded and they both stand up. Untangling from each other was the hardest thing they've done so far. Draco went to the bathroom and Harry went to the kitchen to start with breakfast. 

Harry found the kitchen clean, with his dishes back on their shelves. He decided to make some eggs and bacon with pancakes because he was feeling extra happy that morning. So happy that he was humming some tune as went. He startled when arms were suddenly around his waist, a chin over his shoulder, and the smell of vanilla and oak surrounded him. 

“That smells good,” Draco said as he swayed them both. 

“That's because it is,” Harry said and turned to Draco. 

Draco loosened his grip slightly so he could stand up straight and look down at Harry. He looked briefly at Harry's lips then back to Harry's bright green eyes. Harry smiled slowly and tipped his head up to close the almost non-existent gap between them. 

They shared a soft, sweet, and lingering kiss before they pulled away to look into each other's eyes with light flush over their cheeks and dazed grins on their faces. Their eyes said everything they ever needed to say but Draco felt the need to say something. 

“I missed you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all liked it! i'll post some more (i hope soon, but i'm not making any promises).
> 
>  **other places where you can find me**  
>  twitter: @aelagabalus (multi-fandom/kinda personal)  
> tumblr: aelagabalus.tumblr.com (nothing special, really, but i might start posting fics there too)
> 
> thank you! :))


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